


the focus, the flow

by amagpie



Series: start the spark [2]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Sub Quentin, dom eliot, soft cock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 15:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19009015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amagpie/pseuds/amagpie
Summary: Quentin should really think about getting a Masters in Mindfulness Through Sex with all the practice he’s been getting lately.





	the focus, the flow

**Author's Note:**

> My idea of where Quentin’s at in these fics is that he’s just at that point in his depression where you’re not just not-sad anymore, you’re actually legitimately happy for the first time in a long time. It’s a place he hasn’t been since the boat quest, since the mosaic, or maybe since all the way back in season 1 when he says he’s the happiest he’s ever been when they have a way to Fillory but don’t know about Plover yet. Ultimately, this is about hope. And kinky sex.

Quentin knows he has a tendency to hyper focus. More typically, that energy has been put towards Fillory, statistics, or that one time in college he got really into ska for three months. The point is that he’s self-aware enough to know that he might be going a little hard on sex recently - specifically sex with Margo and Eliot, and more specifically kinky sex with Margo and Eliot.

They don’t seem to mind, but Quentin’s definitely been developing a bit of a thing for not focusing on his own cock while they’re together. Eliot knows that - hell, they talked about it in detail enough when this particular request started, the whys and the hows. Eliot hasn’t taken to the mindfuck of it as quickly as Margo has - maybe because he sympathizes too much with his own cock - but Eliot’s been ready, willing, and able to push Quentin along with this however far he wants to take it.

“Do you want me to do the spell to keep you soft?”

They’ve only done that once before. It was - interesting. And hot. Definitely hot but also really intense, and Quentin thinks that maybe he doesn’t wanna spring that on both of them suddenly. If they do it again, he’s gonna have to be in the right headspace for it.

“No, um, I can stay soft myself.”

Eliot gives him a fond smile that might look silly on anyone else but on Eliot just looks regal. “However will you resist me?”

Quentin lets out a laugh, and a “I’ll manage-”, and then a brighter laugh as Eliot takes his mouth. He kisses Quentin slow and deep, and it’s everything Quentin wants from him. Eliot’s tongue pushes into his mouth slowly, setting the pace for the night. Right, ok, not frantic. He may be desperate, but he’s gonna be good and not claw at Eliot for more.  

Quentin settles into the feeling of his boyfriend fucking his mouth with his tongue.

It’s measured and gentle, and Quentin can feel Eliot’s cock hardening against him. Quentin loves when kissing goes on so long that all he can taste is the specific taste of Eliot’s mouth and all other distractions are washed away. Fuck, he feels grateful to be right where he is in this moment, that they have the time for this now, again.

Eliot kisses along his jaw, his neck. He runs his hands down Quentin’s body and every touch sends shivers through him.

Eliot moves a hand between them to hold Quentin’s cock for a moment before moving on. He’s definitely not completely soft anymore, but he’s not hard either. Eliot trails along his balls, his perineum, pressing against him before moving to his hole. He runs his fingers over him while they kiss, and Quentin savors every light touch.

“Touch me,” Eliot whispers against Quentin’s mouth, and he’s all too happy to oblige. He touches Eliot, jerking him off slowly to match his pace to Eliot’s. With Eliot’s tongue in his mouth and hands lightly touching his ass, he savors the feeling of Eliot getting harder and harder for him. He wants to go faster, please him better, but he’s afraid if he speeds up his hand then he’ll speed everything up and ruin the perfect rhythm Eliot set.

“You’re so good, Q, so good at this.” Happiness and a pleased smile light up Eliot’s face as Quentin jerks him off. Eliot likes to pretend sometimes that he can be a mean demanding dom, but then that smile. It’s like he can’t help it when he feels good, when someone is sucking or touching his cock, and Quentin loves that he can do that for him.

“C’mon, I can take more,” Quentin pleads against Eliot’s panting mouth. He craves Eliot’s fingers inside him, wants him to fuck him open for his cock.

“I’m sure you can,” Eliot teases. Just to be an asshole, he moves back to cupping his balls, running teasing fingers over him that almost tickle.

Quentin gives him his best unimpressed stare. Eliot heeds.

“Alright, get up, brace yourself.”

Quentin does as requested, his heavy cock bouncing against him in the process. Fuck. He has to take a few deep breaths, focus on the feeling of his arms braced against the frame, his knees spread slightly on the bed, and his ass waiting to be opened to let some of his hardness slip away again.

By the time Quentin’s ready for more, Eliot is already pressing up behind him, his entire body plastering to his back and wet finger pressing back on his hole. Huh, he must have missed the lube spell; he always liked seeing Eliot’s hands during that particular spell.

Quentin can feel Eliot wrap a steadying arm around his stomach as he slides the first finger inside of him. He bears down, breathes deep and tries to focus only on this, on how Eliot can make him feel.

Eliot presses his body against him, his hard cock against his hip. “Can you feel me?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you feel how hard I am?”

“God, yes,” Quentin sighs.

“Good.”

Quentin clutches Eliot’s arm around him as he works him open and presses his hard cock against his body. When he’s like this he loves feeling how hard and big Eliot can be. Quentin never thought much about his own dick size, but when it’s up against Eliot’s it’s suddenly very hot to him that he’s smaller. He looks down at his own semi-soft cock and wonders how much smaller he’d look if he was completely soft while Eliot was completely hard right next to him.

He can feel himself loosening as Eliot works more fingers into him, fucking him slow and deep and long. He gets lost in the in-and-out and the slow glide of his beautiful fingers.

It feels like he has a lot inside of him, but Quentin’s never good at keeping track of what Eliot’s deft fingers are doing. Sometimes when they play it feels like he’s being filled completely but there’s only two fingers inside him, and other times he opens so easily that it feels like suddenly he’s four fingers deep without realizing. Right now he feels something in between- the weight of Eliot stretching him like a low wet burn making him feel full and slack at the same time.

He wishes he could see Eliot stretching him open. Maybe next time they can magic themselves a mirror for this part.

Quentin could spend hours like this. He’s putty in Eliot’s hands as he works him deeper and fuller, his fingers a constant anchor inside him. Quentin lets his head fall back against Eliot’s shoulder, desperate for any extra point of contact he can manage even though they’re already so close. It’s like the most relaxing massage he’s ever gotten. Definitely the sexiest one.

Eliot laughs and says, “Feeling good?”

“Yeah,” Quentin moans, eyes closed and completely lost in the feeling.

“Guess how many fingers I have inside you right now.”

He whines. Quentin knows he’s gonna get it wrong. “Three?”

Eliot pushes inside him and holds him there, the widest part of his knuckles keeping his rim open. “Nope, higher.”

“You’re on four already?”

“You’re so pliant today,” Eliot says with a kiss to his neck, his four fingers pressing deep. Fuck, he loves that he can open easily for him. “Maybe we should keep you soft more often.”

Quentin feels boneless.

Eliot moves his hand down from clutching his stomach to lightly cup Quentin’s cock, and Quentin can’t help but let out another whine. “It’s ok,” Eliot soothes, touch still light and not-pushing. “You’re not gonna get hard.” Quentin knows Eliot likes to feel, likes to feel the effect he has, but it’s too much. Quentin grabs his hand, pulls him away and back up to his chest.

“Ok,” Eliot pets his chest and his nipples in apology while he fucks his hand into him. “You’re ok.”

Quentin takes a steadying breath and just feels. Focuses in on Eliot strong behind him, his hand pressed against him on every slow thrust. He feels big behind him, not just his cock but all of him. As Quentin takes deep breaths, he feels steady and full and like he could sway here on Eliot’s hands for hours.

“I have to- I’m gonna fuck you now,” Eliot whispers against his ear.

“Yes, please. Just-” He taps Eliot’s thigh. “Move back a bit.”

Eliot gives him space, and Quentin folds in half. He sighs against his folded arms and he’s so ready to feel Eliot slide hot and hard into him.

Eliot lets out a chuckle behind him, lines up his cock, and starts to press inside. Quentin feels fucked open and loose already, but damn Eliot is always so big. He presses forward and Quentin pushes down, lets him in, lets him split him open. “Fuck,” he whimpers as Eliot pushes completely inside of him until he’s pressed up against him again.

“You take me so well,” Eliot praises as he pulls out before sliding hot and thick into him again. His pace is slow, steady, relentless. Quentin focuses in on the praise spilling from El’s mouth and the thick line of his cock fucking him deep. This position isn’t great for hitting his prostate, so mostly he focuses in on the good stretch of Eliot filling him. He’s so big, and Quentin knows his body has had to learn how to accept all of his cock inside him already, but he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have Eliot work a finger inside him along with his cock.

Eliot pets his hands over his sides as he fucks him. Quentin shivers and moans as the feeling intensifies until all he can think about is Eliot and his big cock and how safe he feels right now in his bed and his arms. He never in a million years assumed he’d ever feel like this or get to experience this. He’s fully present in this moment, his mind focused only on good things, and he’s monumentally grateful to be alive to be happy right now, no matter how fleeting it may be.

He’s not hard. He’s blissful and he’s not hard and he can keep riding this wave forever. Or at least until Eliot decides he’s done. He keeps telling him “you’re good,” and “you open so well for me,” and “amazing.” Every praise lets him sink further into the moment so that all he feels is loved and good.

He reaches behind him, the movement a little awkward, but he doesn’t even care as long as he can clutch Eliot’s hand in his.

Eliot thrusts deep and holds him there, his cock filling him up completely and his hand holding him back, connecting them together.

“You’re so good,” Eliot says barely loudly enough for Quentin to hear. “You don’t have to do anything, just stay there. I’m gonna come in you.”

With long and deep thrusts, Eliot works into him at a slightly faster pace. Quentin is too far gone to care how it rattles his cock against his stomach. At this point, he’s so focused on the pleasure in his ass that he’s not even sure he could get hard if he tried.

The rhythm stutters, and Eliot comes deep inside of him. Quentin would gladly trade the messy clean-up for this moment right here: Eliot pushing the evidence of his pleasure into him.

Eliot pulls out, and oh right that’s why he doesn’t always come inside him. Quentin can feel El’s come start to slide wet out of him, and he’s still amped up enough that it’s mostly a turn on instead of kind of gross. But the threshold for that is going to turn at some point.

“I’m not moving from this spot,” Quentin mumbles against his arms. So like the good boyfriend that he is, Eliot grumbles but gets up anyway to bring him a towel from the bathroom.

For all his posturing, when he comes back, there’s only care and affection in his eyes. Eliot lays down beside him to wipe the towel over him, set it aside, and stare into his eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

“Really good,” Quentin sighs. His body kind of feels like jelly and he still doesn’t want to move. But his thighs are starting to ache a bit from the position, so with the utmost reluctance, he flops himself down to mirror Eliot.

Eliot runs a hand down his body but avoids touching his soft cock. “Do you want to come?”

Quentin considers it for a moment. Sometimes it’s nice to let go after they do a scene, but he’s so relaxed and happy right now that he doesn't think he needs it. And if he doesn’t need it, then he likes pushing himself a bit.

“No, I’m good.”

Eliot moves so that he can use both hands to clutch Quentin’s face. “I love you.”

Which is lovely, but Quentin glances at his hands that were inside him just a bit ago and can’t help but wonder - “You did wash your hands, right?”

Eliot’s bright, open eyes roll. “Yes, Quentin, I washed my hands. I’m not a complete heathen.”

Huffily, he pulls Quentin down to rest his head on his chest, and he’s pretty sure the way he sprawls his fingers out so that they’re all pressed individually against him is pointed. It should be annoying, but he’s so grateful that Eliot lets him see all of him.

“Hey,” Quentin whispers against his chest. “I love you, too.”


End file.
